.
Fred himself was the most enthusiastic member of the party. Shorter than
any of his comrades his weight was still nearly as great as any of the
four. His solid, sturdy little frame was capable of great endurance and
there were few experiences he enjoyed more than tiring his long, lanky
comrade John, who as one of his friends brutally expressed it was as much
too tall as Fred was too short.

Out of consideration for Fred's physique, among his friends he was known
as Pigmy and Pee Wee, the former title sometimes being shortened into Pyg.

John, however, rejoiced in his name, or if he did not rejoice, at least
was accustomed to respond to the appellation, String.

The remaining members of the little band were George Washington Sanders,
one of the most popular boys in the school in which all four were
students. Frequently he was referred to as Pop, a distinction by which his
friends indirectly expressed their admiration for one who was laughingly
referred to as the "Papa of his Land," just as the great man for whom he
was named was the "Father of his Country."

Grant was the member of the Go Ahead Boys who easily led in whatever he
attempted. In the hundred yards dash he had established the record of the
school. His standing in scholarship was high, while his fund of general
information was so extensive that he had received the appellation,
Socrates. This nickname, however, recently had been shortened by the
time-saving lads and Grant was more frequently called Soc than by the name
which his parents had given him. His ability as an athlete was scarcely
less than his success in the classroom. And yet Grant by no means was one
who withdrew from out-of-door life, or enjoyed less than his friends the
stirring adventures in which they all had shared.

Zeke Rattray, the guide, was a tall, bronzed, powerful young fellow about
twenty-five years of age. For several years he had dwelt in the region,
serving as guide for various exploring parties or prospectors. The Go
Ahead Boys had smiled incredulously when Zeke had informed them that when
he came originally to the state because he was expected to die "back
east," (in Iowa) of tuberculosis. "I weighed just one hundred and nineteen
pounds when I landed out here," he explained, and then as he stood erect
and threw back his powerful shoulders his young companions laughed. It did
not seem possible that the strapping young giant, who now weighed at least
two hundred pounds, ever ha